My Two Dads

After moving back home after college, Christian starts screwing around with his stepfather. He knows he shouldn’t, but it’s just so hot. Things really heat up though when his father catches them at it.

Tom helped raise his stepson, but now that Christian has grown into exactly the sort of man he lusts after, he’s got less fatherly ideas. And since he and his husband have an open relationship, it’s not exactly cheating. It’s just dirty and wrong.

Yes, Rick knows his husband fucks around with other men, but he didn’t expect Tom to be fucking his own son! Accidentally interrupting the two of them mid-act is a strange—and strangely arousing—surprise. But once he’s given his permission, he starts wondering if he’s got even more to give.

Content warning: Contains consensual adult incest. Readers who consider Tom to be cheating on Rick despite their having an open relationship might find this problematic. This novella has a happy M/M/M conclusion


Both his husband and his son were home, Rick could tell from the cars out front, but no one was in the kitchen when he came in. He put the flowers in a vase and removed the foil and cage from the champagne, working the cork until it was almost free. The television was on in the den—the sounds of an announcer calling a baseball game drifting across the living room toward him—so he grabbed three glasses and headed that way.

As he got closer to the door, he picked up other sounds interwoven with the announcer’s drone. Non-baseball sounds. A male voice grunting, another groaning, the wet slap of vigorous sex. Were Tom and Christian watching porn together? They were both gay men, but it hardly seemed appropriate.


He quickened his footsteps, unconsciously softening them as he crossed the last few feet to the doorway. One glimpse told him it wasn’t porn he’d been hearing. This was live. Tom was fucking someone, right there in their den with his sweatpants around his ankles and his shirt rucked up. His ass clenched powerfully as he drove into the naked man who was kneeling in front of him with his arms folded over the back of the couch and his head buried between them.

Tom was magnificent. Rick had never seen him in action before, and he suddenly regretted their don’t ask/don’t tell policy. His initial pique at realizing Tom was fucking someone over his own couch faded as his cock hardened. The man Tom was fucking was gorgeous too. Young, based on the firmness of his thighs and the high, round globes of his ass, with a head of luxurious chestnut hair like the one Rick had once had himself.

Like the one Christian had now.

The glasses slipped from his fingers to shatter against the hardwood floor, and the cork popped free with a loud bang. A frothy bubble of champagne foamed up and over the neck of the bottle like a hideously premature orgasm.